


Halfway to Nowhere

by TwistedRocketPower



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Apocalypse, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-04-25 23:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedRocketPower/pseuds/TwistedRocketPower
Summary: Phil can still remember what it was like to be clean. He can remember a time where the sight and smell of blood made him queasy, but that doesn’t happen anymore.It’s been 245 days since the world changed, and 186 days that Phil has been alone. It’s better that way though. Better when no one else can get hurt, and the only person he has to worry about is himself.





	1. The Mercy of Living

**Author's Note:**

> This one is pretty different from my usual, but I hope you all still like it!  
> Each chapter title will be a song that kind of reminds me of the overall chapter. You can find and listen to them as you read if you want!
> 
> tumblr: softgolftechniques

_Don’t breathe._

That’s what Phil thought to himself as he listened to the noises coming from outside.

The good part about being this deep in the woods is that it was likely not a person.

The bad part about being this deep in the woods is that it could be the wind, an animal, a monster, or his imagination.

Holding his breath while he waited for the noises to stop was nothing new to Phil. He’d been doing this for a long time now.

Every night consisted of sitting up in the tiny shed he found, staying awake, and listening for noises until the sun rose.

He knew it was really no safer during the day, but everything _felt_ safer during the day. The world was a bit less scary when the sun was out, so that’s when he slept.

Nights… Nights were for other things.

Right now, the night was for eating.

Phil’s stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he was going on day three without any food.

He tried to ration everything out as much as he could. He could only fit so much food into his backpack, and he hated to go out and search for more, so he always held out as long as he could.

But he also knew when he needed to eat. He knew when he was getting too weak, and you couldn’t be too weak in this world.

If you were too weak in this world, you wouldn’t make it to the end.

If there was an end.

God, he hoped there was an end.

With the world outside the shed becoming silent once again, he opened up his backpack and began searching for some food.

He finally took hold of a can, pulling it out and tearing the top off.

Green beans.

He could tell by the smell.

They didn't smell bad, but he’d had them for enough meals to know exactly what they are without having to see what’s on the label.

He reached his fingers into the can and pulled out a few of the green beans, then ate them.

Utensils stopped mattering a long time ago.

So did draining the juice out of a can.

Phil remembered a time he used to cringe at the thought of drinking the vegetable water from a can. Now, it’s almost like a treat.

This was a small can of green beans, and he knows it’s his last. Tomorrow he’ll have to go out again. Tomorrow he’ll have to face the world again.

It made his stomach turn. It almost made him feel sick enough to stop eating.

_Almost_.

He didn’t stop though. He kept eating until every bite was gone, then he drank the juice until he was sure there wasn’t a drop left.

Phil let the thoughts about supply day fall to the back of his mind. The worry was there, it was always there, but it’s something he has to do. He has no choice, so he doesn’t dwell.

He leaned over and placed the empty can in the corner, beside two other cans.

He put his backpack on his lap, then reached into a smaller compartment and pulled out a book light and a deck of cards.

He turned the light on and set it on the ground, moving it around until it illuminated the floor. He then shuffled his deck of cards and began to set them up, one by one, until it was fully set up for a game of solitaire.

He checked the watch on his wrist.

4:43.

The sun would be up in a couple of hours.

Until then, solitaire would be the only thing that mattered.

 

When the sun came up, Phil put his cards away and turned the book light off.

His eyes felt heavy, but he couldn’t go to sleep yet. First, he had to take a little walk outside.

He stood up and looked out the small window on the side of the shed.

He couldn’t see anything around, so he walked over to the door and slowly opened it.

He pulled the pocketknife from his back pocket and opened it up, then peaked all around.

When he was sure the nearby area was empty, he headed out to check his traps.

Phil was never a hunter, and that hadn’t changed, but these traps weren’t for animals.

In fact, Phil made sure the traps he created wouldn’t harm animals. If they were to get hung up in one, they wouldn’t die, and Phil could get them loose and let them go.

These were different traps.

Traps made for people and for monsters.

Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

 

Once all of his traps were checked and clear, he headed back into the shed.

He placed a large wooden plank in front of the door, making sure it was secure before he walked over to the mat at the back of the shed.

He laid down and pulled his backpack closer to him, then put his arm through the straps. With his knife still secure in his other hand, he closed his eyes and let himself sleep for a while.

 

Phil woke up after three hours of sleep. It was rare to get much uninterrupted sleep, so he was thankful for the few hours he got.

The sun was shining bright through the window; it felt like a reminder to him, telling him to get out and go look for food before night returned.

He took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh before he got up from the floor. He gathered up his belongings, strapped his backpack on his back, then headed out of the shed.

He looked around again, making sure he was alone, knife in hand. When he felt safe to continue, he began his walk out of the woods.

He was a couple of miles away from the nearest road.

Honestly, the road wasn’t much of a road to begin with. It was a one way, unpaved path, with potholes still filled with water from the last time it rained.

_A week ago,_ Phil thought. _That’s the last time it rained._

He didn’t walk on the actual road for long, deciding to walk through the woods beside it instead. He was safer that way. It was easier to hide. It was easier to see who or what might be coming.

Phil knew there was a store up ahead. It was probably the only store this town had- if it could even be called a town.

Phil had only ever seen five homes, all spread out over acres and acres of land. He wasn’t even sure how a store could stay open out here.

But, it was there, and it had food.

At least, it had food the last time he had been inside. He wasn’t sure if there would be any left now.

Before walking up to the store, he stopped. He crouched down behind some bushes and watched the store for five minutes.

He made sure to time it; he never went in before five minutes.

When he didn’t see any movement, he continued toward the store.

He opened the door, listened for the little bell to ring, and then closed it back.

People had definitely been here since the last time he stepped foot in the store. Items were thrown all around, there were footprints on the floor, and empty cans were on the shelves.

The whole place smelled of rotten meat.

That was a smell Phil was familiar with now. He didn’t even gag anymore. Every store had a meat department, or a section with cold foods, which meant every store had that same smell.

Phil threw up the first time he smelled it.

A few times after that he would choke and cough and gag.

But now there was nothing. It didn’t phase him.

There wasn’t much that _did_ phase him anymore.

He continued down the aisles, looking for any canned items that might’ve been left.

There wasn’t much, but he did end up finding a small can of peas, two cans of carrots, and a large jar of sauerkraut.

He rummaged through the next aisle, digging through empty boxes until he found a half eaten package of crackers and an opened box of cookies. He opened up his backpack and placed everything inside, then headed down the next aisle.

What he saw on the aisle made him stop in his tracks. He sucked in a deep breath and ran over to the half roll of toilet paper.

It wasn’t there the last time he came. He actually hadn’t seen any rolls of toilet paper in months.

Someone had to have left it behind on accident, but that was their loss. He quickly put it in his bag, looking around just to double check that this wasn’t some type of trap.

It was amazing, the things that could make his world a little better nowadays.

He also ended up finding three bottles of water, one of which hadn’t even been drank out of.

With his backpack now almost completely filled up, he left the store and began the journey back to his shed.

He would have to leave soon, he knew that. The store was nearly empty now, mostly filled with makeup and lotions. There wasn’t another place nearby to stop and get food, so he’d have to move on.

It made his heart pound a bit faster, but he pushed the feelings away.

What he had could last him for more than a week. He had time to stay. There was no rush.

He’d worry when there was a reason to.

 

When he got back to the shed, he entered with caution, knowing anyone else could have made a claim on it while he was gone.

When he saw it was empty, he headed inside and locked himself in.

He sat on the ground, placing his backpack beside him, and opened it up.

He pulled out a torn, discolored journal that lacked a front cover.

Every single page was filled with some type of stain, although Phil couldn’t tell what was dirt, sweat, or blood.

He opened up the notebook to the next empty page and picked up the pen placed inside.

_Day 186 of being alone._

_Day 245 since the world changed._

_I’ll have to leave soon. I know I need to anyway. I can’t stay here forever._

_I have to look for my family. I need to be in London. I’ve been here too long, but it doesn’t feel like long enough._

_I don’t know when I’ll leave, but it’s quiet and people don’t come back here. That’s been enough to keep me around._

_I wish I knew how to where I was. I have a map, but no idea how to read it, and there aren’t any street signs around here._

_I should’ve paid more attention in geography._

_I never understood geography._

_I don’t know what to write._

_I don’t fucking know what to write._

_This feels so fucking stupid._

_I hope my mum’s okay, and my dad, and Martyn, and Cornelia._

_My grandpa… I don’t want to think about him. There’s no way he-_

_I don’t want to think about it._

_I don’t know how to get to London, especially when I don’t know where I am in the first place._

_I don’t even know if London exists anymore. Aren’t big cities the first places to go in every disaster show or movie?_

_Fuck, London better not be gone._

As the sun began to set, Phil closed his notebook and put it away.

He grabbed a towel from his bag and one of the half empty water bottles.

After taking a small sip from the bottle, he poured a little onto the towel and began to wipe himself down.

The last time he had been able to get a little clean was when it rained.

Since then, the dirt had been piling on.

Now that he had an opportunity to wipe some off, he wasn’t going to let it go.

He scrubbed his face, making sure his beard was clean.

He had lost his razor nearly three weeks ago, and he hadn’t had scissors since he was alone, making his hair nearly as long as it was when he was in his early twenties.

It was all his natural color now, the black dye long gone.

He hated how his hair fell in his face. It was a distraction, and you couldn’t have distractions in this world.

Thankfully, it was just long enough to pull back into a ponytail, so that’s how he kept it.

He didn’t feel like himself at all anymore.

He didn’t like looking in mirrors, often turning away from them when he went anywhere that had one.

He wasn’t Phil Lester anymore.

He didn’t know who he was, really.

Not that it mattered.

Being someone didn’t matter at all.

All that mattered was survival.

Although he wasn’t even sure if that really mattered either.

Once he was as clean as he could get, he put the rag away.

The sun was fully set now, and he was left with another long night.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out his deck of cards and his book light.

He turned the book light on, adjusting it until it illuminated the floor, then he laid out the cards one by one until he was ready to start his game of solitaire.

It would get him through the night, until the sun rose again.

And then, he’d sleep.


	2. The Sound of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter:
> 
> Disturbed- Sound of Silence

There was nothing before this.

That’s what Phil liked to tell himself.

Time didn’t exist before the new world. He didn’t have an old life. This is what always was and always will be.

He told that to himself every day, and every day flashes of his old life would flood his mind.

He remembered, no matter how much he tried to forget.

He remembered his apartment, the way it smelled and the comfort it gave him.

Sometimes, it smelled like cleaning products: bleach, lemon dusting spray, and window cleaner. The bathrooms smelled like lavender potpourri, or whatever candle was burning during his baths.

Other times, the house smelled of takeout. Pizza, Chinese, Mexican, Thai… Whatever he was craving at the time.

He remembered the feeling of the carpet, freshly vacuumed and soft enough that it would squish between his toes.

The feeling of the cold tile floors on a hot day, or the way the hardwood felt right after they had been cleaned.

He could remember sitting out on the balcony, laying his head back and closing his eyes, feeling the warm sun on his skin.

The sun felt good when you had an air conditioned apartment to go back into after an hour or so.

He remembered what it was like to walk into a heated room after being out in the cold. Being able to take off his clean coat and put it in the coat closet. Fixing himself a cup of hot cocoa and sinking into the couch, turning on the TV and finding a Christmas movie to watch.

He could remember the feeling of stepping into a hot shower, letting the water run all over him as he’d scrub himself with the best smelling soaps and shampoos he could find. It was like the water was working out every tension knot he had and he’d feel so much better afterward.

He remembered crawling into bed, his sheets would be cold, but he’d still feel so warm. He’d turn onto his stomach, put his arms under the cool pillow, and fall into a peaceful sleep without a single worry.

He remembered what it was like to have three meals a day, sometimes more if he felt hungry. Always having ice cream in the freezer, and cookies in the pantry, and biscuits to dip in hot tea.

All the things he never really thought about when he had them, he remembered so vividly now. Things he took for granted, that he didn’t even realize he was taking for granted, were things he’d probably cry over if he had now.

It was crazy to think that, not even a year ago, he had a home and a job.

Not just a normal job either.

He got to make videos for people, he got to entertain, he got to make people happy.

In less than a year he had gone from AmazingPhil, the awkward introvert who made videos on YouTube, to… to whatever he was now.

Nothing he had ever done really mattered anymore.

His name wasn’t special. His name didn’t get him deals, his name didn’t get him money, his name didn’t get him special privileges. 

He had been so sheltered for so long, and he didn’t even realize it. He didn’t even think about the possibility that something like this would happen in real life. He didn’t think that he’d need outdoor survival skills one day, or that maybe he should just pay better attention to all those survival reality shows that he’d leave on in the background while he was busy editing a video.

And his family and friends.

He remembered all of them.

He worried about his family every single day. He hoped they were alright, he hoped they were surviving. 

He hoped his friends were too.

Most of them were like him, introverted and not super adventurous. He hoped they were doing okay.

He remembered everything. He remembered too much. He remembered so many things he didn’t want to remember.

So many things…

Phil wiped tears from his eyes and took a deep breath.

There was no reason to waste time crying. It wouldn’t change anything.

He pulled out a map from a side pocket of his backpack and opened it.

It was torn halfway down the middle, and some parts were heavily faded, but there was still enough detail for him to make out major cities in England.

He spent so much time looking at this map, trying to figure out where he was at. 

He wished he were better with directions. He wished he could look around outside and know exactly where north, south, east, and west all were. He wished he didn’t feel like he had been going in circles as he traveled. He’d been in this shed for a few weeks now, but before that he had been wandering around. It was just woods. Everywhere was just woods. It all looked the same, no matter where he’d go or which way he’d turn. It was like going on a hike, but instead of being out for a few hours you were out for months and there was no trail to help you in or out. There were no signs telling him where he should go. There were no arrows pointing in any direction and it was so frustrating that he’d often find himself sitting with his back against a tree, hands tangled in his hair, feeling so angry that he probably could have pulled it all out.

There was a circle around Manchester on the map, and another one around London.

He knew he could be anywhere between there.

Hell, he could be north of Manchester now for all he knew.

He felt like such an idiot. He should, at least, be able to know the general area he was in, but he had no clue.

He folded the map back up and put it away as a rush of anger coursed through him. 

As he stuffed the map into the backpack, his knuckles brushed against a hard surface.

He moved his hand around and felt the item, then pulled it out.

It was an cassette tape recorder. One he had bought at an antique shop nearly ten years ago. He had wanted it because his parents had a bunch of old tapes that they’d play when Phil was young, and he hadn’t been able to listen to them in years.

The recorder came with a blank tape, which was what was inside of it now.

Except, the tape wasn’t blank anymore.

It had been filled with memories a long time ago.

Phil had gone around the house, recording moments with his friends and family, most of the time without them ever knowing.

He rewound the tape to the beginning, then stared down at the recorder as his hand hovered over the play button.

He took in a deep breath and nearly pressed play before he stopped himself.

He put the recorder back into his backpack and got out his journal.

This wasn’t his usual writing time, but he needed a distraction this evening.

He opened up where he had left off the night before and began to write.

_ Day 187 of being alone. _

_ Day 246 since the world changed. _

_ Sometimes, I feel lonely. Sometimes, I forget what my voice sounds like. There’s no need to talk now, so I don’t. _

_ It’s better this way though. Being alone is better. When I’m alone, I don’t have to worry about anyone else. I don’t have to worry that they’ll get hurt, or they’ll get killed. All I have to do is worry about myself. _

_ That’s easy when you aren’t sure if you care what happens. _

_ Sometimes I care. _

_ Sometimes I care a lot. _

_ Other times… I just don’t. _

_ I’m not sure if I care or not right now.  _

_ I don’t feel like playing solitaire tonight.  _

_ I think I’ll build a house from the cards instead.  _

He put up the journal and pulled out his cards.

It was still light enough outside that he didn’t need his book light, but he got it out anyway. That way he wouldn’t have to dig for it once it was dark.

He set up the first two cards, making sure they were steady before he picked up another one.

One by one, the house was being built. 

One room turned into two, and then a hallway was added.

He was getting ready to add another room when he heard a noise outside.

He froze, a card in each hand. 

_ Wind.  _ That’s what he told himself.  _ It’s usually always just the wind. _

He went to gently put the cards into their spot when he heard the noise again, causing him to jump slightly and knock all the cards over.

He reached for his pocket knife and opened it, then stayed as still as he could while he listened.

It wasn’t the wind, he knew that for sure now.

It was footsteps.

And they were coming closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for commenting both on here and tumblr. It means so much to me :)
> 
> tumblr: softgolftechniques


	3. Bottom of the River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Delta Rae- Bottom of the River

_ “How many people have you killed?” _

_ “What?! Um, none?” _

_ “Andy, stop teasing him. He’s kidding, Phil. He’s just watched too many episodes of The Walking Dead.” _

_ “You’re no fun, Kate,” Andy said, moving to the other side of the road. “What am I supposed to do for entertainment if I can’t live out my favorite tv show?” _

_ “Terrifying Phil isn’t entertainment, dumbass,” another girl said. Phil thought he remembered her saying her name was Shyann.  _

_ A boy- John- bumped into Shyann. “I highly doubt Andy is the most terrifying thing Phil has witnessed.” _

_ “No one needs extra fear, John. And stop shoving me,” Shyann replied, shoving John. “So, tell us about yourself, Phil.” _

_ “There’s not much to tell, really,” Phil replied, feeling as shy as he used to when he was young. _

_ “Oh, please! Shyann’s been whispering about you since you joined us,” Andy replied. “Said you were a celebrity or something, isn’t that right?” _

_ “God, you’re such an asshole, Andy,” Shyann said, side-eying Phil. “But, it’s true though, right? Like, you are the person I watched on YouTube all the time, right?” _

_ Phil took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then nodded. “Yeah, I- I made videos on YouTube. I didn’t… I’m not a celebrity though.” _

_ “How many followers did you have?” Kate asked. _

_ Phil shrugged. “A few million.” _

_ “Fuck,” John replied. “I’d say you were a celebrity then.” _

_ “Where are you headed?” Kate asked. _

_ “London,” Phil said. “My family should be there.” _

_ “What family?” _

_ “My brother,” Phil answered. “He’s… He should be there.” _

_ “You know that, when we ran into you earlier, you were going in the opposite direction of London, right?” Andy asked. _

_ Phil scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I, um, I’m not great with directions, really.” _

_ “That’s alright,” Kate said before Andy could get in a word. “We’re going the right way now. We all want to get to London too. Andy’s mum is there, I’ve got a couple of friends just outside the city, and John and Shyann’s auntie and uncle live there.” _

_ Phil’s heart was pounding in his chest. He hadn’t felt this nervous since the first time he went on stage in front of thousands of fans. He didn’t know these people, he didn’t understand this world, and he had nothing to offer them. They had no reason to keep him around. _

_ “I’m not sure I’ll be much help to you,” Phil admitted. “I don’t know much about surviving or just camping, really.” _

_ “I think we’re all just figuring this shit out as we go,” John said. None of us have any fucking clue what we’re doing, but we’re gonna fucking do it until the world makes us fucking stop.” _

_ “Now you’re just saying fuck for no reason,” Shyann said. “So please, shut the fuck up.” _

_ “I was trying to be helpful, Shy.” _

_ “You failed.” _

_ “Okay, shut up both of you,” Andy said, walking over to Phil. He stopped in front of him, causing Phil to stop as well. _

_ He had two backpacks on his back, so he took one off and handed it over to Phil. “You’re gonna need more room than you’ve got in your backpack, so take this one instead. Makes less for me to carry anyway. There’s water in there, and a couple candy bars. You can have them. We share what we find, we take care of each other, and we’re a damn mess, but we’ll at least get you moving in the right direction. You wanna stay with us?” _

_ No matter how much fear Phil felt right now, he knew it would be so much worse if he were completely alone. He nodded, tightly holding onto his new backpack. “Yeah, I wanna stay.” _

 

He had traps set. He knew they wouldn’t be able to get to him.

But, he’d have to confront them anyway. 

He’d have to make sure they knew to never bother him again.

Phil shoved everything into his backpack. He had to prepare for anything. 

If there was more than one person, he might have to leave this place. He’d have to find a new shed to stay in. Or maybe he’d find a house.

Anything was better than just being out in the open.

He put his backpack on and got his pocket knife secure in his hand.

As he held onto it tight, he peeked out the window to see if the person, or people, were getting closer.

He couldn’t see too well since it was getting dark, but he could make out some movement in the bushes nearby.

They were getting close. They’d hit one of his traps soon.

All he had to do was-

“Shit! Fuck! Fucking shit fuck!”

wait.

Phil’s eyes widened at the sound of someone yelling followed by a thud. They had definitely found his trap, and now he had to wait and see if anyone else was with them.

“Oh fucking hell! Hey!” The person yelled. “Who the fuck did this?! Come out, you motherfucker!”

Phil’s heart began to race. They needed to shut up! Yelling at anytime was bad, but it was even worse at night. At night, it was harder to see them coming. They were sensitive to sound so, if they heard the screams, it would all be over.

“I think you broke my fucking leg, you asshole! You got me, okay?! Now come out and face me, coward!”

Phil hurried over to the door and opened it, gripping onto the knife as he walked closer to the person.

“I have a weapon,” Phil stated. “Don’t move.”

“Don’t move?” The person replied, letting out a humorless laugh. “How the  _ fuck  _ am I supposed to move when you have me  _ trapped?!” _

“Who are you?” Phil asked, taking a cautious step forward.

“Why does it matter?” They replied. “You’re just gonna kill me anyway, right? Got all this fucking way just to fucking die!”

“You need to be quieter,” Phil demanded through gritted teeth. “They’ll hear you.”

“Who cares? If you’re gonna kill me anyway, I’d rather them take you out too. I tell you what, this is fucked up! I’ve been out here for weeks,  _ weeks,  _ minding my own fucking business and going on my own fucking way and then this shit happens and now I’m gonna die. How messed up is that? How fu-”

“Please just shut up!” Phil yelled suddenly, sucking in a breath to calm himself back down.

The person stopped talking, so Phil took a couple more steps forward.

He could see them a bit better now. He could make out the brown hair and dark eyes. The tall body, long legs, with one leg sticking out- caught in his trap.

“Are you going to kill me?” They asked, quieter now. “Cause if you are I’d rather you make it quick.”

Phil stared at them for a moment, taking note of the backpack they had. 

“Give me your stuff,” he said.

“What?” They asked. 

“Your stuff. Throw over your backpack, and take your jacket off too.”

“Please, don’t kill me," they said, nearly whining. "I’ll just go, okay? I won’t bother you. I’ll fix my leg and I’ll go and-”

“Throw me your stuff if you ever want out of that trap,” Phil interrupted. “Now, please.”

They stared at each other for a moment, as if they were trying to both read each other and protect themselves from being read at the same time.

The person groaned, then began to shake off their backpack. “Oh, fuck,” they said with a grimace. “My leg fucking hurts.”

“You’ll be fine,” Phil replied as the bag was tossed to him. They took of their jacket next and threw it over as well.

Phil moved it to the side, then walked over to them, holding the knife out in front of him.

“I have to check for weapons,” he said as they started to lean away from him.

“God, you’re a fucking mess. Of course I have a fucking weapon, I’m not an idiot. There’s a knife tucked into my ankle on my free foot and I’ve got a taser hooked onto my belt.”

Phil got the weapons and tossed them over by the other items, then he felt around to make sure there was nothing else.

“I’ll let you go,” Phil said, moving back over to their belongings to begin and look through them. “But only after you tell me your name.”

“Why does it matter?”

“It just does.”

“Is it some weird kink or something? Do you get off on a name? Does it make your dick har-”

“Just tell me your name!”

“Fine!” They yelled, jumping slightly at Phil's harsh tone. “It’s Julie! My name is Julie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the love and support!
> 
> tumblr: softgolftechniques


	4. Friction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> Friction- Imagine Dragons

“Are you going to attack me?”

Julie glared up at Phil. “How the fuck would I be able to do that?” She asked.

“I’m not stupid,” Phil replied.

“I’m trapped!” Julie exclaimed, motioning down toward her ankle. “How could I possibly attack you?!”

“When I let you go,” Phil explained. 

“Oh…” She shrugged. “Well, I’d probably try, under usual circumstances, but I’m pretty sure my ankle is sprained. Also, you took all my fucking stuff!”

“You have got to be more quiet,” Phil said, kneeling down by Julie’s leg and beginning to undo the trap. “It’s not supposed to be this tight.”

“Well, it is, asshole.”

As she pulled her leg from the trap, Phil took a step back and held out his knife toward her. “Don’t try anything,” he said, trying to keep his voice and hand from shaking.

_ “Again,  _ my leg is hurt. You hurt my leg. I can’t ‘try anything’ because I can barely fucking move. Now, either stab me with the knife or help me up.”

There was a noise in the distance. A rustling through the bushes surrounding them. Phil knew what it was, and knew they needed to move quickly.

He bent down and hooked his arm under hers, then quickly pulled her up. “Move fast,” he instructed, beginning to walk before she even had the chance to balance herself.

“Jesus Christ!” She yelped as they headed for the shed. 

Phil grabbed up their belongings and continued toward the shed, Julie holding onto the back of his shirt and limping beside him.

Once inside, she held onto the wall and he let her go so he could close and lock the door. She limped to the back of the shed and sat down in the corner.

“You shouldn’t give up your belongings so easily,” Phil said, dropping their backpacks in the opposite corner. He moved over to the window and stared outside, although it was much harder to see now that the sun had fully set.

“Didn’t really have a choice,” she replied. “I was literally trapped and had two options. Die out there alone, or take a chance with you. I took a chance.”

“Why are you alone?” Phil asked. He turned around and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, the knife still in his hand.

“I was with a group before, but they sucked. Like, they really sucked, and I didn’t want to be with them anymore. Figured I’d do better on my own, so I left.”

“Who are you?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, who are you?”

“Um, I’m Julie? My full name is Julie Thomas. I was born and raised in Texas, but I moved to the UK about two years ago.”

“How’d you get out here, in the middle of nowhere?”

“How did you?” She retorted.

Phil sighed. He walked over to his backpack and pulled out his book light. He set it on the floor, twisted it so the light was pointed at the ceiling, and turned it on. It was getting too dark to see, and he didn’t feel comfortable having a conversation with a stranger in the dark.

“How old are you?”

“26.”

“Where’s your family?”

“That’s a good question.”

They stared at each other for a moment, her words hitting him harder than he thought they would. 

“Is it my turn to ask you questions now?” She asked.

“No. Why did you move here?”

“Because my girlfriend lives here and I wanted to be with her.”

Phil took in a deep breath. “Is she… Are you still looking for her?”

Julie replied with a nod.

“Oh.” Phil scooted down the wall until he was sitting, his knees curled up to his chest. “I hope you find her.”

“So do I. Now can I ask you questions?”

Phil nodded.

“How old are you?”

“31.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“My family,” Phil answered. “My brother is in London.”

“Full name?”

“Phil Lester. Are we done?”

“Almost,” she replied. She leaned forward to touch her ankle, hissing as she put pressure at certain spots. “Tell me, Phil, why are  _ you  _ all alone?”

 

_ “I swear I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” John said, his cheeks red just from sharing the story with other people. _

_ “Oh, please, you were five years old,” Shyann replied. “No one cares you were reenacting the skinny-dipping scene from The Parent Trap.” _

_ “I care!” Katie said with a laugh. “I’m cringing just thinking about it.” _

_ “Yeah, it was embarrassing! Grandma had never watched the movie and she had no idea why I was naked, standing on the edge of the tub!” _

_ “You guys,” Andy interrupted as he walked over from another aisle, “I found marshmallows!” He held up the bag of jumbo marshmallows, his eyes wide and his smile even wider. Phil couldn’t help but smile. He looked like such a child. _

_ “Oh!” Shyann exclaimed. “Open ‘em up!” _

_ Andy sat down between Katie and Phil and opened the marshmallows as Phil looked around. They’d been staying in this store for nearly five days now. It had been raining almost nonstop for over a week, and they were lucky enough to find this place after a couple of days out searching for somewhere to stay. It wasn’t much. There was only about eight aisles, and most of the stuff had been gone through. When they looked hard enough, however, they could find items that had been pushed to the back of a shelf, or fallen underneath them. _

_ “I wish we had a fire,” Phil said as he was handed a marshmallow. “Not that I don’t love marshmallows in any shape or form.” _

_ “How anyone could ever dislike marshmallows, I’ll never know,” Shyann replied. _

_ “I actually never really liked them,” John chimed in, tearing his in half and staring at the center. “Something about the texture.” _

_ “Sometimes I’m sad about the fact we’re related,” Shyann said, glaring over at him. _

_ John tossed his head back and threw half of the marshmallow up in the air, catching it in his mouth. “Only sometimes?” He asked, chewing with his mouth open. _

_ Katie shook her head. “Anyway,” she said loudly, “Phil, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.” _

_ “What’s that?” _

_ “We’ve known you for, what, about two months?” _

_ “Yeah, I guess so. Why?” _

_ “Cause I feel like we’ve known each other long enough for me to ask you what it was like, being famous and all?” _

_ “Oh…” Phil shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t spend much time thinking about it. I mean, it was nice, I guess, not having to worry about money and all. It was nice to be able to be my awkward self and get paid for it.” _

_ “I wonder what people would say,” John started, leaning back and propping himself up on his hands, “if they knew we were traveling with Phil Lester. How many people would be jealous of us right now?” _

_ Phil smiled. “I’d say the people traveling with Leonardo DiCaprio probably have a bigger jealous group than you guys do.” _

_ “Oh, Leonardo doesn’t hold a candle to you,” Andy said, waving Phil off with a laugh. “In fact, Le-” They all froze when a noise was heard outside the store. _

_ They stared toward the door as the sounds of footsteps came closer and closer.  _

_ It wasn’t one set. It sounded like a whole group. _

_ They could hear talking too. And deep laughter. _

_ “Get up,” Andy instructed, whispering to the group. _

_ Slowly, they all stood. _

_ “We’re gonna go out the back d-” _

_ Before he could get the words out, the front door was kicked open. _

 

“Phil?”

Phil’s head jerked toward Julie, who was still in the same spot, rubbing at her ankle but staring at him.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Phil replied quickly, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. 

“Did you hear my question?”

“I- I just wanna be alone,” he replied. “I prefer it.”

“No, I asked you something else after that.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t hear you.”

“I asked if there’s anyone else that you’re looking for? I know you said your brother, but who’s the rest of your family you mentioned?”

Phil’s head was too foggy to be answering questions right now. He just needed to get up and get out of here. He couldn’t handle being stuck in this tiny shed with anyone else.

“No one,” he answered, standing up and grabbing his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder. “I’m going to find supplies. You can stay or leave, it doesn’t matter.”

“What? Wait, Phil!” Julie yelled as he opened the door and began to leave. “Phil, I’m fucking hurt! Are you coming back?! Phil!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments! I'm sorry I'm not able to reply to them all, but I read and love every single one.
> 
> tumblr: softgolftechniques


	5. Oats in the Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Oats in the Water by Ben Howard

_“How is this so difficult for you?”_

_“How is it so easy for you?!”_

_Andy sighed. “You just have to get the friction right and it’ll work.”_

_“You know, you keep saying that, but it’s not helping.”_

_Kate reached over and took the sticks from Phil, felt them for a moment, then tossed them on the ground._

_“Hey!” Phil exclaimed, quickly glancing over at John and Shyann to make sure he didn’t wake them._

_“It’d help if you chose sticks that weren’t damp,” Kate replied._

_Andy glared over at Phil. “Phil!”_

_“I told you I know nothing about this!” He reached behind him for his backpack, opened a small flap in the front, and pulled out a box of matches. He quickly lit one, then placed it into the small pit created for him to make a fire. “There. I started one.”_

_Now it was Kate’s turn to sigh. “Phil, you’re going to wish you knew how to make a proper fire one day. You’ll be out of matches, and you’ll be cold, and there will always be plenty of sticks around, but you’ll have no idea what to do with them.”_

_“I’ll just call you or Andy over and have you do it for me then,” he said, a small smile on his lips._

 

Phil stared down at the fire in front of him.

He was farther out than usual. When he had left the shed, he just kept walking, and there was no way he’d be able to make it back tonight.

Not that he wanted to go back. He had no desire. He liked being on his own, not having to worry about anyone else, only having to take care of himself.

That’s the life he wanted now, and he didn’t need anyone disrupting it.

Julie would be fine on her own. Her ankle wasn’t broken, it was barely even a sprain. She’d be fine within a few days.

It wasn’t his problem.

She wasn’t his problem.

The fire in front of him was small, and it had taken nearly twenty minutes to start. His hands burned, red and slightly raw. He had only managed to successfully start a fire twice before, and that was a fairly long time ago.

Often, he didn’t even try. He managed nicely without any heat source.

But tonight… tonight was different.

He needed the fire.

Not even for the heat.

He just needed it. He needed to know that he _could_ start one, and he wasn’t willing to stop trying until he had a spark.

He needed to get his mind off of things. He needed to stop thinking. And as long as he was trying to start the fire, he didn’t have to think about anything else.

He leaned back against a tree, his backpack right beside him, and got ready for the night.

He hated nights like this. Nights he’d be out in the open. He liked the protection that walls gave him, even if it was walls from a crappy, old shed in the middle of nowhere.

He knew he needed to stay awake, but he didn’t want to.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to stop thinking. Being awake all night would just be time for him to remember things.

Things he never wanted to think about.

So he closed his eyes, and he let sleep take over.

 

It was the middle of the night when Phil was jerked out of his sleep by an all too familiar noise.

The rustling nearby told him all he needed to know.

It wasn’t the movements of a person.

This was a monster.

Phil got up quickly, wide awake and ready for the fight.

There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to run and hide.

He knew by how close the sounds were that he’d have to fight.

He grabbed his pocketknife, then stomped out the tiny remnants of the fire. He could see the shadows even in the dark. He could see it coming toward him, crawling on all fours. He could hear the hissing, and he could smell the sharp scent.

He held tightly onto the knife.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy, it never was, but he also knew he couldn’t let it win.

He wouldn’t.

 

“Fuck!”

Julie jumped as the door to the shed swung open.

“Fucking shit,” she said, holding a hand over her chest. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Phil reached up and wiped blood off of his forehead and onto the back of his hand. “I ran into one of them.”

“It looks like you ran into a whole group.”

“Felt like it.” He dropped his backpack onto the ground and pulled the jacket off of him. It was covered in blood and filth. Half of it was his, half was from the monster.

“I thought you left for good,” Julie said, watching him carefully as he looked over his arms for cuts and bruises.

“I was.”

“So you were really just going to leave me here? Alone? Hurt and all?”

“You could’ve left.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I could’ve gone really far, Phil. Wobbling down the road, or in the woods, by myself. I’d be bait for those demon spawns.”

Phil ignored her, wincing as he began to pull his shirt off.

“What are you doing?” Julie asked, her eyes widening slightly.

“What’s it look like?” He replied. “I need to change.”

“Well, you’re gonna clean up first, aren’t you?”

“No, I was just going to keep all the filth on me forever. I love the smell.”

“God, you’re such an asshole.”

Julie crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Phil as he bent down and pulled a water bottle and washcloth from his backpack.

He got the cloth wet, then began to wipe himself down.

As he tried to clean his back, he winced, sucking in a breath from the painful movements. There were so many cuts and bruises on his arms, and his body was sore from the fight. It hurt to try and twist around to clean himself off.

Julie’s glare faded as she watched him, and she sighed when she realized this would take forever.

“Oh for fucks sake,” she said, reaching behind her to hold onto the wall as she pulled herself up. “Let me do it.”

“I’ve got it,” Phil replied quickly.

“No, you don’t.”

She wobbled over to him and jerked the washcloth away before he could protest again. “Do you have any alcohol or anything?”

“What for?”

“You’ve got a big cut on your back. It’ll get infected if you don’t put something on it.”

“I think I’ve-” he paused as he leaned back down and opened another compartment of his bag. “Here.” He pulled out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and handed it to her.

She poured a little onto the cloth, then pressed it against the cut.

“Ow! Fuck!” Phil yelled.

“Oops. It’ll sting a bit,” she warned.

He glanced back at her with a glare.

“Sorry,” she said and, to her credit, she did sound slightly sincere.

She cleaned the rest of his back in silence, only stopping once all the dirt and dried blood was gone.

“Good news is the cut has stopped bleeding now,” she said. “Bad news is you need to take off your pants. I hope you’ve got new ones somewhere in that bag.”

“I’ll change them later or something,” Phil replied. “I don’t need help with that.”

“Wasn’t offering,” she said, handing the cloth back to him. “I have no desire to see a penis, today or ever. But you really need to change and clean the rest of yourself up. I’ll stare at the wall until you’re done.” She wobbled over to a corner and stared at the wall. It was such a ridiculous sight that, in any other circumstance, he would’ve laughed.

Nothing ever really seemed funny anymore though.

 

Once he was fairly clean and dressed in new clothes, Phil sat down on the floor. “You can turn around now,” he said, grabbing a plastic bag from his backpack and putting the dirty clothes inside. He’d have to go to the creek soon. He’d have to wash the clothes and find a spot where they could hang and dry for a few hours.

Julie turned slowly, letting out a breath once she saw he was fully dressed. She sat back down on the ground and placed a hand over her stomach. “I’m hungry,” she said, a whine in her voice.

“It’d be a waste to eat right now. Wait another day.”

Julie groaned. “I’m _starving,_ Phil. I need sustenance. If I don’t eat, I’ll never heal, and then I’ll have to stay here forever… with you… right by your side… never leaving.”

Phil rolled his eyes. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small can of green beans, then rolled it over to her. “Here. You better eat all of it though.”

She grabbed the can and pulled the lid back. “You might as well come eat with me,” she said.

“I don’t like to waste food.”

“It’d be a waste if you didn’t help me eat these,” she replied. “Since they’re already open and all.” She held the can out toward Phil, wiggling it slightly to try and convince him to come over.

Phil wanted to protest, but the green beans did look delicious, and he was hungry after his night out with the monster.

Phil moved closer by Julie, who smiled as she set the can down between them.

“When I first moved here,” Julie began, reaching into the can for a bite, “I had next to nothing. My girlfriend and I were in this tiny apartment, even though it was fucking expensive, and after paying rent and all our other bills we barely had enough for food. We’d buy canned vegetables when they’d go on sale and eat them straight from the can.” She laughed. “We wouldn’t even warm them because it would cost electricity. We’d just sit on this crappy couch in the living room that we found in someone's yard with a _Free_ sign on it, and we’d eat from the can and talk about our future. All our goals and things we’d have one day.” She shrugged. “Cheaper than television, and just as fictitious, I suppose.”

“Sounds like you two were happy.”

She nodded. “We were. Those were some hard-as-fuck times, at least that’s what it seemed like back then but, fuck, they were always some of my favorite memories once we got a slightly better place, and slightly better jobs, and had enough money to turn on our TV.”

“I always felt the same way. Sometimes, I just wanted to go back to when it was super simple and we were figuring out what to do next to get by. I mean, I was glad I didn’t have to worry anymore, that’s always nice, but… something about having just enough was, I don’t know, thrilling in a weird way.”

“I get it,” Julie replied. “Especially when you’re going through it with someone else. The hard work and dedication you put into everything you do so you can stay where you’re at… I just- I get it.”

Phil picked up another green bean. “Yeah. I was alone though, so it was a little different.”

“Oh, right.” She looked over at him. “I’m not sure I’d love those memories if I was going at it by myself.”

Phil let out a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said, pushing the can closer to Julie. “I’m gonna sleep for a bit.”  He got up and moved to the other side of the room, laying down and using his backpack as a pillow. He turned away from Julie, facing the wall. “Wake me if you hear anything.”

She stared at him curiously for a moment, wondering what it was about this man that she was missing. “Okay,” she answered, taking the can and resting it on her lap. “Sleep sweet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)
> 
> tumblr: softgolftechniques


	6. Simple Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter: Simple Man- Cover by Jensen Ackles

“Phil… Phil?”

Phil jerked awake, pulling his arm away from Julie, who was shaking him slightly.

“Sorry,” she said, scooting back from him slightly. “You’ve been asleep for a few hours and I was just wanting to take a turn. You mind?”

He shook his head, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “No. You go-” he paused to yawn, “Go ahead.”

“Okay.” She wobbled back over to the other side of the shed. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” he answered coldly. 

“Good,” she replied, lying down. The air was awkward between them. She half-wished she never would have woken him up. “Im, um, I’m gonna sleep now.”

“Alright.”

As she turned to face the wall, Phil pulled his deck of cards and book light from his backpack. He turned on the book light and set it up as he always did, then began to place his cards on the ground. 

As the light hit his hand, he could see remnants of blood between his fingers. He placed his other hand in the light to see blood on it as well.

He remembered a time when he hated the sight of blood. The smell of it made him queasy and, if he tasted it in his mouth, he’d have to spit over and over until the taste was gone. 

_ “What the hell are you doing?” _

_ “I bit my lip.” _

_ “So the kitchen sink is a good spot for all your lip blood? That’s disgusting, Phil.” _

_ “Can’t help it,” he replied, spitting into the sink again. “If I swallow any, I’ll vomit. You know that.” _

_ “Yes, I know. Just clean it with bleach when you’re done, please.” _

But blood didn’t bother him anymore. The sight, the smell, the taste; it was normal now. It didn’t make him sick to his stomach. In fact, he often found himself eating while still covered in blood and dirt.

He used to wish for his old life. He used to sit and focus on the blood. He’d try and go back to how he used to be. He’d try to get that nauseous feeling, just so he wouldn’t lose everything he once was. He knew that once it was gone, it would never come back.

But, one day he stopped doing that. One day, a day he barely remembered now, he stopped wishing for the past, stopped hoping it would return, stopped hoping that everything would go back to normal, and started living in the world that really existed.

He stopped escaping this reality, because reality was forced on him so fast that there was no way he’d ever be able to lie to himself again. The lie that everything would be okay one day… that was over. 

This was normal, the blood was normal, running and fighting was normal, being sweaty and smelly and dirty was normal, being hungry and thirsty was normal, being cautious and watchful was normal, being suspicious and alone was normal.

He was never happy anymore, but never sad either. He wasn’t angry or vengeful. He wasn’t much of anything. He simply existed. He survived.

Right now, that had to be enough.

 

_ “I’m tired.” _

_ “Go to bed.” _

_ “Incredible idea, Phil. Wish I’d thought of it. Are  _ you  _ going to bed anytime soon?” _

_ “I just want to watch the latest update on everything, then I will.” _

_ “M’kay. I’m gonna go try and fall asleep again, I’m sick of the news.” _

_ “Okay. G’night.” _

_ “Night.” _

 

Phil looked over at Julie as the sun began to rise. He hated times like this. Times where his thoughts would catch up to him.

It was too much downtime. Julie was holding him back. If it weren’t for her, he’d be out of here by now.

He needed to be out of here…  _ now. _

Holding his breath so he didn’t make a sound, Phil quietly stood up. He secured his backpack onto his back, then slowly walked toward the door.

She could make it on her own. She had made it this long by herself, and he didn’t need anyone else.

He didn’t need anyone.

He left the shed, gently closing the door behind him, then headed out on his way. 

As he walked, he looked around, doing anything he could to keep his mind from wandering too far. He’d take note of the trees, leaves, weeds, and any colors he’d see around. He’d try and remember song lyrics, and his favorite lines from tv shows and movies. He would think of the steps it took to create and upload a YouTube video, but his heart felt heavy when he’d realize he had forgotten a few steps. He couldn’t even remember a lot of the things he had learned at university.

But, on days like today, no matter how hard he tried, his mind always led him back to memories he didn’t want; led him back to things he forced his mind to reject a long time ago.

He’d get deeper and deeper into those memories, and his heart would hurt more, and his body would ache more, and his eyes would get fuzzier. He would start to walk slower, and he’d just want to sleep. He’d start to feel like a part of him was missing and, God, how he hated that feeling.

He was sinking. He felt like he was in quicksand and he couldn’t pull himself out.

That was, until he heard a noise.

He stopped in his tracks and began to look around. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking, or where he even was now.

He heard the noise again. A rustling sound. Someone was walking in his direction, he just couldn’t see them yet.

He hurried out of view, standing behind a tree, his heart racing.

If there was one thing he hated more than fighting the monsters, it was trying to get away from the humans without being caught.

“You motherfucking asshole!” 

Phil sighed, resting his forehead against the tree.

Julie.

“I saw you already, you bitch! Thought you could hide behind a fucking tree and I’d just go away? How the hell have you lived this long?”

Phil walked out from behind the tree as Julie came into view. “How long have you been following me?”

“A long-ass time,” she replied, limping over to him. “You were in your own world. Walked in a giant circle once, then started out in a new direction.” Once she reached him, she placed her hands on her hips. “Do you have any fucking idea where you’re going?”

“London,” he replied, straightening up, sure of himself.

“Then why are you going that way?”

He rolled his eyes, turning from her and beginning to walk again. “Like you’re some sort of geographer,” he mumbled.

“Cartographer, actually,” she answered, causing him to stop walking. “Well, I was,” she continued. “Geographers don’t make maps, cartographers do.”

Phil turned back toward her.

“I was working with a new company,” she explained. “We were creating an app, making maps of the UK to provide easy and interesting directions for travelers who were looking for adventures. Backroad stuff, instead of main highways and shit like that. We were going to branch out past the UK once we saw how it started out, but I was part of the group in charge of England, so I know how to get everywhere without a map or any directions whatsoever.” She shrugged, “I’m kinda an old school slut, so I started teaching myself how to get from one place to another without directions when I was little.”

Phil bit at his bottom lip. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

Julie sighed. “You don’t. I mean, if you want to go the wrong way and never get to London, that’s fine. But, if you actually want to get there, then you need to start heading that way,” she said, pointing to her left, “instead of where you’re going now.”

“If I go the direction you’re pointing me, will you leave me alone?”

“Once we get to London, I will,” she replied. “I mean, you left me with nothing, Phil. You took all my shit with you, I’m not just going to be stranded, disabled bait for whoever or whatever comes along.”

Phil thought for a moment, staring at her. “Once we get to London-”

“Once we get there I’ll get out of your hair,” Julie finished, starting off in the direction she told Phil to go. “Until then,” she patted his arm as she passed by him, “you’re stuck with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! I started this chapter 3 weeks ago and just now finished it. I have been... slow! But I'm not gone. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> tumblr: softgolftechniques


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